Sometimes Bill Hates Being The Oldest
by I'maMePanda
Summary: Bill Weasley loves his family, even when they're annoying, obnoxious or just plain too loud. He'd do anything for any of them, without a second thought. When everyone seems prepared to let Percy leave them after the Tri-Wizard debacle, busy crying over him, or happy that's he's gone, he just doesn't understand. Percy is his brother, and Bill has a duty to him. That never changes.
1. Prologue-or, When Bill Walks Into A Bar

A/N-I know, I know, I should be working on the next chapter for Billy-Boy instead of posting a new story, but I had to share it. The next chapter is already twelve pages long, it will be out on time...unlike the last three...I promise.

I hope you enjoy this little nugget, well it isn't one of my top priorities I've had fun playing with it, and more will come eventually. Percy is a fun character.

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Sometimes Bill hates being the oldest. Hated that they all turned to him, when things got bad, or Mum and Dad were being unreasonable. Even Mum and Dad seemed to think it was his responsibility to take care of anything they couldn't handle.

Looking through the doorway at his baby brother teetering on a muggle barstool, he couldn't help but think that this might be beyond him. Not that anyone expected him to solve this problem-no the rest of his family all seemed to be happy to forget that Percy existed, or was busy mourning him as though he were dead.

Only Bill couldn't forget.

So he'd gone to look for him, a few days after Dumbledore's funeral. He wasn't at his flat and the landlord said he hadn't been there for a week, hadn't paid his rent, and his lease was up next month anyway, so would Bill mind getting his brothers things out of there? He wouldn't ask, but if not he'd have to send them all to his parent's house anyway, be a pal, hey? Bill had rather thought the greasy looking bloke would have been more likely to pawn it all for the missed rent, and agreed instantly.

Bill had shrunk it all as far as it would go and placed them in a few cardboard boxes the landlord had provided. There wasn't much-the place had come furnished and Percy was the type to find knick-knacks "silly."

He'd been in shock really-Percy spend a night away from home, let alone not pay his rent? It hadn't sounded right and Bill had felt a pit of worry form in his stomach.

He'd gone to the Ministry and inquired after his brother, and had been at first soundly rebuffed. He was finally able to track down his brother's assistant, a rather annoyed young woman, who had told him that Percy hadn't been in for days now. They'd finally received a letter just that morning, with his resignation letter in which he had written that he planned to go to America to start a new life. No, he couldn't see the letter, that wasn't proper.

Bill had explained a bit to the flustered woman about overprotective and worried big brothers, and what they were likely to do, and had been given a copy of the letter in under five minutes. His mother would have had kittens, but right then he didn't much care.

He had then-and he was a bit ashamed of this, it was the sort of thing he'd been taught wasn't ethical-placed a tracking charm on Percy using the traces left of his magical signature on the parchment. It was an emergency after all.

It had led to the London airport-which really didn't make any sense at all, sure it was too far to apparate but it wasn't as though Percy didn't know how to make a Portkey, and Bill knew he had a license. The arse had been smug about it for a month when he got it, though not nearly as bad as the twins had been after they got their apparation licenses.

But he understood it now. For the past ten minutes he'd listened to an extremely tossed Percy tell a bunch of amused and equally tossed muggles all about how he was giving up magic and his family, and he was going to start anew without them in America.

"Of all the bloody stupid things!" Bill muttered grimly. Percy had only the most basic muggle identification, no qualifications, no one in America to turn to, no real savings. What, did the git expect the streets to be paved with gold, with free food and the offer of a roof on every corner? He wondered if his pillock of a brother had even bothered with a muggle passport.

Not to mention all the trouble he could get in if anyone saw him telling muggles about magic-alright, that was it, the blighter had pulled his wand out and was declaring he'd prove he wasn't lying.

Without even realizing he'd decided to do it, he crossed the room to his brother, only realizing it probably wouldn't go over well if he grabbed him by his ear and hauled him bodily away when he was right behind him. "Percy," he said softly, leaning in, "what in the blazes are you doing?" He stifled a chuckle when his brother jumped and almost fell off the barstool swirling around.

"Billius," Percy, drunkenly straightening his glasses, said in his best "I'm better than you", voice making Bill narrow his eyes, "What do I owe the pleasure?"

"First of all," he said nodding to the errant wand Percy had left on the counter, a curious muggle about to grab it, "Put that away, before I kick your arse."

Percy grabbed it in surprise, opening his mouth to speak, probably to tell his brother how appalling his language was, but Bill cut him off, "Second, you're leaving the country? Without a word to anyone at all! For god's sake, Perce! You left everything you own in your apartment, do you know what I thought when I saw that? I thought you were dead, or hurt somewhere!" Somewhere during his tirade, Bill had found himself looming over Percy, whose gaping mouth made him resemble a fish, "Dammit Percy!" **Thwack!** Bill smacked the counter making Percy jump, and hopefully getting his point across. The other bar patrons slowly cleared away, not feeling the need to interfere in what was clearly a family quarrel.

Percy stared, and started stuttering, "Bu-t you di-didn't care!" This statement seemed to give him some fire, and he sat up straight on his bar stool poking at Bill's chest. "I ran a whole department for a year, with Mr. Crouch gone! I got a promotion that I not only earned myself, but truly deserved, and Mum and Dad, MUM AND DAD," Bill found himself truly bewildered, how exactly had his nineteen year old brother wound up in charge of an entire ministry department? He'd known there had been some sort of problem with Crouch even before the debacle at the end of the Tri-Wizard, had heard the rumors, but frankly, no matter how talented Percy was, that was far too much to put on the shoulders of a teenage kid. What the bloody hell had been going on? "Say I only got it, because Fudge wanted to spy on them!" Percy's voice broke, and Bill felt his heart sinking.

"Oh, Perce," He sighed, running a hand down his ponytail, once again hating being the oldest. Where was _his_ big brother to help him handle this, hey?

Percy sniffled, looking very young, "I wouldn't have done that Bill, you've got to believe me! I wouldn't have!" Bill felt his heart stop. Percy had thought they were accusing _him_ of being a spy? No wonder he had reacted the way he did.

Bill's blood ran cold as another thought occurred to him-his mother, at least, had a tendency to say things in the heat of the moment, things she certainly didn't mean, but that didn't much matter when she was lambasting you. _What if she had actually said that to him?_

Percy continued to talk, drunk babble really, but Bill just stood there indulging in a surge of anger at his parents. How could they not have realized what was running through Percy's mind? Why weren't _they _here, stepping in where they were so sorely needed?

Alright, he knew why. And the war effort was really important, it was, he understood that. Bill had changed his entire life around for it, left behind the career he'd been planning for since he was thirteen. He even understood that his parents _had_ tried to talk to Percy-but clearly they hadn't done enough. What was the point of fighting a war if your family wasn't there in the end to come home to?

Bill nodded his head; he knew what he was going to do. Percy probably wouldn't like the interference with his plans much, but oh well.

He quickly did a wordless notice-me-not spell, discreetly gripping his wand from where it hung down from the holster on his wrist, and then put his hands out grabbing both his brother's shoulders ("then I said such awful things Bill, and I know you're mad, but they said awful things too. Bill? Bill?") and with a brief flash of concentration, they were apparating out of the airport.

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"Hey Murray, where'd those ginger kids go?" The blond haired man with the red nose and nearly permanent tipsy smile plastered to his face, turned on his barstool in the direction his friend was looking.

"Must'a left, Petey." He took a sip off his mug. "Big one sure was mad."

"I dunno…didn't see 'em leave." Petey had a slightly suspicious look on his face as he peered at where the two had been standing. "They were standing there one second, and the next *poof* they were gone."

Murray gave his friend a dubious look, "Suuuure, they did Petey." He slid a container of peanuts over towards him. "If you're seeing people disappear, I think you should eat something."

"I'm not that pissed! They just disappeared!" Murray was getting frustrated now, but Petey just patted his shoulder and shoved the peanuts a little closer.

"Whatever you say, mate."


	2. In Which Percy Lights Himself On Fire

A/N: So apparently I lied, and you get a new chapter of this already. Go me? Hope you enjoy it!

Oh, and I'm curious if anyone who reads this has read my other story, and would love it if you'd take the time to check it out! Unlike this one it does have warnings however, so if you do be sure to read them.

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Percy stumbled away from Bill before he could get his grip on him steady again, looking wholly confused, "What? Where are we?"

"We're at my flat Percy. I brought you home with me." Bill approached Percy slowly as he was now shaking his head and backing away from Bill.

"No, no I have to go…" He turned in the small living room, "I have a plane to catch, and plans," still stumbling around Percy finally managed to find the door and head in its general direction. Bill who had never seen his little brother drunk before (He and Charlie had tried to take him out pub-crawling when he turned seventeen, but Percy had begged off-something about a bird, which of course was always a valid excuse), wished he could be amused by it. Instead it just made him sigh and send a locking charm at the door.

"Not tonight Percy, you're pissed. We'll talk about your plans tomorrow, alright?" He walked closer to Percy and laid a hand on his shoulder from behind, "For now, we could listen to the wireless, or I can get you something to eat?" That last one sounded good to Bill-Percy had always been the skinniest of the boy's, but the shoulder under his hand was outright bony.

Percy turned back towards him, his confused face slowly becoming outraged. "You're kidnapping me! You can't hold me here!"

"Brother-napping you maybe," Bill conceded with a shrug, "Sorry sprout, but I'm not letting you wander off in the middle of London, drunk and alone. Not happening."

Percy glared at his brother, indignant. "I'm not a child Billius, and I'm _not_ your sprout. I'm leaving right now." He shrugged out from under Bill's hand and turned and marched towards the door, feeling both triumphant and strangely let down when he didn't follow him, or even say another word. Percy got to the door and went to turn the lock, but it wouldn't budge. He yanked on it, his movements growing almost ferocious when nothing happened. He switched to trying to pull open the door instead, although how he thought he was to get it open while it was still locked, Bill had no idea.

When Percy pulled his wand out he took a step forward and said "That's enough Percy," firmly. Percy made a face at him-seriously how drunk was his brother? _Percy _was making faces? _Percy?_-and started casting spells at the door.

Bill sighed and was preparing to pull Percy back and make him sit on the sofa, when the younger man pulled his arm back above his head and flung it wildly towards the door, almost screaming, "Incendio!"

The spell flew crazily off course as Bill rushed forward, his own wand out and "Aguamenti!" on his lips. He wound up having to not only put out his carpet, but Percy's left trouser leg and the bottom of his robes. After he finished he stretched himself to his full height, crossing his arms and looming over his brother, his wand sticking out of one fist and tapping on his arm.

Percy went red as he realized what he'd done, but even drunk, burnt, and wet he did his best to cling to the last of his dignity. "Thank you for your aid Bill, I appreciate it greatly. I will of course pay to have your carpet fixed. I understand that you are trying to help, but I'm afraid your efforts are misguided. Now, please release me." He did his best to maintain the (what he thought was a) professional looking face he had put on for his speech, but it slowly died away under Bill's withering, incredulous glare.

Bill took a deep breath. '_His efforts were misguided.' _Hah. It just figured that his brother would keep his large vocabulary and pompous way of speaking, even when the alcohol had clearly taken all the rest of his sense, "No Percy. I will not be "releasing you". Because you just lit yourself on bloody _fire_!" He reached out and grabbed his little brother by the collar of his robes and dragged him along behind him, not even stopping when Percy stumbled over the edge of the rug, shoving him down on the sofa, hard. "Don't move," he warned the shocked looking young man. Percy, for the first time that night, did as he was told, rather conflicted at Bill manhandling him. For all they'd wrestled around as children, Bill had always seemed to understand that Percy didn't like to play as rough as the others, and treated him accordingly. He knew he must have made him absolutely furious to be so rough, and for some reason that bothered him.

It shouldn't have, Percy told himself, but that didn't really change the fact that it did.

So he sat there quietly as Bill kneeled on the ground in front of him, pushing aside his open robe and pulling up his pant leg to make sure he hadn't burned himself as well as his clothes. When he realized this Percy spoke up, starting to pull his leg away, "I'm not injured Bill, I assure you."

Bill paused for a second, and then lifted his head up to meet Percy's eyes, his expression making his brother gulp and lean back in his seat. "Percy?" He waited for a moment and eventually Percy gave a rather hesitant nod. "You are not going to argue with me. You are going to sit here quietly and let me look after you. After that you are going to eat whatever I give you, drink some water, and go to bed. If you want to talk about your plans tomorrow, I'll be all ears. But for now you are going to do as you're _bloody well told!"_

Percy nodded again, wishing he weren't quite so drunk. If he weren't he was sure there would not be tears in his eyes. He was slightly more sober than he had been, but still pissed enough that his emotions about his family were at the surface, and very, very raw. Bill had been pretty much the only person he hadn't had a direct confrontation with since the "Incident" as he called it in his head, and Percy was just waiting for him to tell him how horrible he was for not instantly rejecting the entire authority of their government and choosing to follow the often thought senile headmaster of their old school instead.

How he was apparently the only one of his parent's children who had ever had a resentful thought. Had ever hated the second hand clothes, or the sneers.

He wasn't quite sure why Bill had brought him here, when they both knew he would just be made to leave again.

Percy wasn't really a Weasley anymore. Sometimes he wasn't sure if he ever really had been. He was the extra one, wasn't he? There was Bill and Charlie, Fred and George, Ron and Ginny, all paired together as automatic best friends. Only Percy had been left alone.

Bill looked up from where he had finished determining that Percy had not done more than singe his leg hair, and saw the tears pooling in his brother's eyes. Percy immediately averted his gaze when he noticed Bill looking at him, his chin raising stubbornly in the air in his effort to keep the tears from falling.

"Oh, Perce," Bill pulled himself to his feet, pushing a stray lock of hair back behind his ear. Percy was always so self-contained Bill wasn't quite sure how to comfort him, especially after so many years where he only saw him on holidays here and there.

Then he frowned to himself. Why was he assuming comforting Percy would by any different than comforting any of the others? That, he concluded suddenly, was a gigantic load of bollocks, and an idea he needed to get rid of if he didn't want to make a complete cock-up of things. Before he could think better of it he sat himself down next to Percy and wrapped an arm tight around his shoulder, pulling him as close as Percy would let him. Percy stiffened even more, and turned his head away from Bill as far as he could. But Bill had babysat six smaller children at once quite often growing up, and had his patience tempered under fire. It was no problem for him to wait as long as it took for Percy to grow comfortable.

It took a while, but after what felt like ages, but according to his watch had only been around three minutes, Percy seemed to relax slightly, his head turning forward again, though he still made no move to look at or acknowledge his brother. Bill decided this was as good a chance as any to speak up and cleared his throat quietly, "Look Perce, it doesn't matter what else happens, even between you and the rest of the family, I'm still your big brother and I'm going to do my best to look out for you. Whether you like it or not. If that means kicking your drunk arse to stop you showing magic to a bunch of muggles, or helping you move to the States tomorrow, if that's really what you want, so be it. But you're not getting rid of me. You're not just going to run-off without anyone knowing where you are, and if you try, just like today, I'll track you down. I'm not leaving you alone again, Percy."

Something in Percy seemed to break then, even as he still refused to look at Bill his shoulders started to shudder, and a single, tiny sob, ripped its way from between the ever composed boy's throat. Bill shifted so he could move his brother over and pull his head to his chest, and to his surprise Percy didn't fight him, even turning himself so he was pressed closer. "Oh Perce…I'm here Sprout, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

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	3. Why Mrs Weasley Should Have Been A Chef

A/N: Thank you all so much for the interest you've shown in this short little story! I want to thank you all for favoriting or following it, and I especially appreciate the reviewers, The Marvel Tiger, Mighty Penguin and the guest reviewers-one of whom came over from my other story Billy-Boy (not HP related), and whose reviews I always look forward too. Thank you!

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Percy's brow wrinkled as he heard the sounds of someone clunking around a kitchen. That wasn't right. There shouldn't be anyone else in his flat.

Forcing himself to move, even though he had a vague notion that this might not be the best idea, Percy pushed himself upright, his eyes still closed, and immediately groaned and bent forward, arms wrapping around his middle as his stomach let him know it was not particularly liking the liquid sloshing around in it, especially after it had been empty for so many days. After a long minute where he determined he was not going to vomit after all, he pushed himself slowly upright again, his right hand leaving his middle and going to push against his temple as his head began to twinge too.

Still, if there was an intruder of some type-even if it was an intruder who was apparently making soup judging from the smell wafting out of the kitchen-he needed to determine his next course of action. He should…floo the aurors-or someone anyway. His landlord was rather intimidating, at least Percy thought so…perhaps he should call him for assistance?

As he finally pried his eyes open, his mouth dropped open-this was not his flat. This was not a flat he had ever seen before. He sat there for a minute, not sure if he should be worried, or of this just meant he had gone home with someone. It had been a very long time since Penelope and he had been together, and loneliness made people do strange things.

Then again, if he'd gone home with someone he would rather have expected to wake up in a bed, not on a couch…

As he looked around the room, trying to find any clues that would shed light on this new predicament he'd gotten himself into, Percy's eyes fell on a row of pictures on the mantelpiece. Weasley family pictures.

Suddenly with a sinking feeling, bits of earlier that day began to flood back to him and Percy sunk back against the couch cushions and buried his face in his hands, groaning. Bill had found him. Bill had found him and brought him here, and Percy had been completely pissed, and if he recalled correctly Bill had not been very pleased.

He also had a vague recollection that there had been some sort of fire, but that couldn't be right…

He groaned into his hands again, not understanding quite how this had happened, or what he was to do about it.

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Bill thanked Merlin for his mother's mother henning tendencies, as he eyed the pantry filled with preserved homemade meals, his eyes drifting over eggs and bacon, and broccoli casserole. He only needed for the most part to put them in the right sort of pot or pan, and merely follow the directions she'd put on them-which mostly meant just remembering to stir it if it was something that needed stirring, and to take it off after the right amount of time.

If it were anything else he would probably have gotten annoyed when she kept sending him the meals-he'd refused to send her his laundry to wash from the very first day he'd moved out-but Bill could not cook. He'd tried to learn, but anything more complicated than the meals you just had to tap with your wand eluded him. And most of those tasted odd. He'd never been quite sure if it was the meals themselves or if he was somehow heating them wrong. Whenever he'd attempted to cook on his own the results had been…disturbing. And decidedly not edible. And so now, nearly eight years after he'd left home, his mother still provided the majority of his food.

He may actually have to learn to cook in earnest at some point, since after Fleur had eaten "his" grilled chicken and white cheddar pasta, she'd begun raving about how well rounded he was, and how thoughtful…

Bill smiled as his eyes lit upon the proper container-soup. Not chicken noodle, Percy's favorite, he'd eaten the last of that a while ago, but no one could resist Mum's ham and potato soup. He pulled it off the shelf and turned to leave the pantry, snagging a bag of bread rolls off a small tower of cereal boxes-he _could_ feed himself if necessary-as he went.

He crossed through the kitchen to the stove, taking a quick peek into the living room where Percy was stretched out on the couch, still asleep. He shook his head as he pulled a pot out of the cupboard to the side of him and placed it on the stove, tapping the burner with his wand a few times to get it set to the right temperature. Then he held the soup container with one hand over the pot, and tapped the lid, releasing the charms and enchantments his mother had layered on to it. Bill let go of the container, knowing it would do the rest, and took a step back to lean against the kitchen island, watching the show.

First the flaps on the bottom sprang apart, flying up to tuck neatly against the sides of the box, then it began to spin, the soup spiraling out like an upside down tornado, so that by the time it landed neatly in the soup pot it had already been thoroughly stirred. The next bit was the best though, the package, done spinning for the moment, began to rapidly fold in on itself, until it resembled a small business card. The business card then began to speak-his mother's voice happy and business like, in a way that made him picture her bustling around the Burrow's kitchen, as it rattled off the few instructions left, "Ham and Potato soup. Stir every ten minutes until thoroughly heated, on medium heat. May add one half cup of milk or cream if too thick. Leftovers need to be repacked or refrigerated within three hours." Then she broke character for a minute, chiming, "Mummy loves you Billy, enjoy your supper." in the teasing voice she knew would make him cringe in embarrassment.

After the aforementioned automatic cringe, Bill shook his head and smiled, holding out his hand for the business card that flew neatly into it-the recipe for the soup on one side, and the instruction for re-heating it on the other, no sign that soup had ever touched any part of the neat, shiny, card left.

His mum had too much time on her hands now that everyone was out of the house most of the year-or rather she had before all this order business started. It was too bad really-he'd been trying to talk her into marketing them to businesses, or setting up some sort of home-owl order business, and she had seemed to be actually taking it into consideration the last few times he'd brought it up. The extra gallons he'd made selling them to his friends, and then slipped to her had slowly begun to make her realize there was a market for it-after all as Bill had asked her, how many other hungry young bachelor and bachelorettes didn't have a mother kind enough to cook for them? That had seemed to motivate her as much as the idea of extra gallons. But, he supposed that one was going out the window now.

Bill moved and set the card inside a small recipe box off the side of his stove-another gift from his mother-and moved to open the bag of bread rolls. Even he was capable of heating them up in the oven-and he thought, as he pulled out a knife and began slicing them, he had long had a love for them toasted with a little butter and cheese on top and happened to remember Percy had enjoyed them as well-he had trouble sleeping sometimes at Hogwarts that first year, and since Bill was headboy, he'd managed to convince his tiny, teacher's pet of a brother that it was _not _against the rules for him to come find Bill in the common room, where he had often sat up late studying, and toasting rolls…

A low groan from the living room brought Bill out of his memories, and he sat down the knife he'd been using, scooping up a potions bottle that had been resting on the counter that ran along the doorway's wall as he crossed through it, "You're awake sooner than I thought Perce." And he was-it had only been a little over an hour when he'd begun to crash, and he had quickly fallen asleep. His little brother looked up at him, straightening in his seat-Percy ever had his pride-even as he gulped a bit, presumably at having to face his brother. He took a few steps closer and thrust the potion bottle at Percy, smiling gamely when he gave him an uncertain look, "Just a hangover potion-and I've another in the morning if you need it again."

Percy reached out and took the bottle, giving him a smile that was more grimace than anything else and a quiet "Thank you.", before knocking back the potion like it was a shot, and then leaning back into the couch cushions, almost against his will as it began to work. Percy sighed in relief-his head still hurt a bit, although that was fading as he spoke, and he was fairly certain that he was still a little drunk, but the nausea and dizziness, the achy sore feeling in his limbs was gone. The instant relief was almost worth the hangover in the first place.

Almost.

"Feeling better?" Bill seemed much calmer than Percy remembered as he peered at him, studying him for a moment before answering.

"Yes Bill. Thank you for the potion." as Percy began to think of the best way to bring up the topic of his leaving-and right now, not in the morning-Bill took charge of the situation and nodding, hoisted Percy off the couch, and began to push his now spluttering little brother in the direction of the kitchen.

"Well then, you should be able to get some soup into your scrawny arse now, shouldn't you?" Percy, thoroughly discombobulated, and not sure whether the cheerful tone to his brother's voice was genuine, or if he was as unhappy as a certain interpretation of his words would imply, let himself be dragged along into the kitchen. He would regroup in a moment, share enough of the details of his plan to keep Bill from worrying-Percy had had no intentions of anyone thinking he was dead, had not really considered it as a possibility, but felt a twinge of guilt as he remembered Bill's words from earlier that night-and then be on his way. They were both after all, grown and reasonable adults, and he was sure Bill would see things his way after a brief explanation.

Percy found himself settled into a seat and a bowl of soup settled in front of him, "Get that into you, they'll be rolls in a minute." And forgoing the oven, Bill used his wand to toast the insides of a roll for each of them(the only cooking spell he was reasonably good at-he still burned whatever he was toasting every four or five times, but comparatively, he was a pro), buttering them and handing one off to Percy at the table, wrapped in a napkin. "I'm out of cheese, sorry."

Percy stared at the roll cupped in his hand, warming his fingers, his mind drifting off to the last time Bill had pressed a buttered roll into his hand…

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End file.
